By Mardiosa Yañez

Morning Bliss

              I partially stirred, reluctant to open my
languid eyes as sunshine flooded generously, it bathe my face
     I surmise it’s another day for the mortals, and gods of 
     Olympus to celebrate new beginnings, I better guess.

                  Slowly I breathe and inhale the cool 
 summer air passing through my nostrils, energizing my lungs;
         And I smell the familiar aromatic scent, it exudes
                     fresh innocence, calms the senses.

              I feel a blend of passion and courage - of an angel
awakening, reviving the mood, mobilizing lackadaisical muscles. 
         I summon my gaze, it settles to where you are cocooned.
        Ah, there you are Damask roses, creeping shyly, yet freely!

                   Among woody shrubs and climbing perennials, 
   I see your flowering beauty - dazzling and simply captivating.
   Like the goddess Khloris, you look glorious in the morning sun. 
                  I feel the serenity, a promise of gratitude.

                    I sigh as I savor your enchanting fragrance 
    it lifts my spirit, soars high up into the clouds. And I watch
                 closely the Creator’s love at work - a staunch
                         symbol of wisdom, hope and grace.

Lament of Kharkiv

Claps of thunder reverberates seemingly endless
    smoke covers graying skies to haziness, sonorous
       sounds of metal brakes moving, screeching
          ominous symphony of blazing machines approaching.     
Fear overwhelming though, but think and act fast
        for in an eye’s glimpse life is cast, Oh, dare not	
            go where young and old, the fallen have trod                     
solitary is the way of the feeble fit in armor-clad!
          Moaning and cries of innocents pierce everyone’s soul 
deep inside recesses it bore an abyss of empty hole,                     
          desolate and outrageous your sentiments may be                      
    stricken with agonizing grief, you ask heaven for mercy.

From distant ruins, you hear chilling echoes of silence                  
          behold a beacon of hideous decadence                      
             this forsaken scenery of smoldering ashes                     
                tears and blood from its core gushes,           

Weep no more, comfort your hearts for the crosses you bear,
      honor and bless the dauntless, their veins pulsated;  
          memories linger as silent witness to the dispirited.         
             Oh, breathe now you are free, life’s essence is ended!  

Mardiosa Yañez is a Filipina. She’s a Laboratory Technician before she shifted her career to
an office job. But, she resigned from her work as office manager during the pandemic.
Spending time at home, she reads different kinds of books, watches documentaries, and loves to cook. She renewed her love and passion for writing – a skill she continues crafting because she believes it is a way to connect with oneself, express ideas, and to reach out to the world.

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